Chapter One- Fractured and Fallen.
Don't own Voltron, just love it & make no money off of it.
The polished television reporter spoke in cool, rehearsed tones.
...and thank you , Charles, for the update on the launch of the new fleet.
And for those of you that have been following the Voltron hearings- we have a press release from the Galaxy Alliance Public Affairs office, as the actual proceedings are closed to the public.
"Today, the committee heard prepared statements from members of the Voltron Force. The testimony was entered into official record as the committee weighs the future of the Arusian technology..."
-The screen is filled with a clearly uncomfortable and highly-decorated Lieutenant McClain speaking before a panel of even more highly-decorated men.-
"...the technology is unreliable, to say the least. I would not feel comfortable leaving the defense of the Galaxy Alliance in the hands of this defense system."
"What the holy hell?" The lieutenant nearly spat out the aged whiskey he had been sipping. "That's not what I said."
A young Tech Sergeant looked up from his datapad on the couch opposite the lieutenant. "Of course that is what you said. That pretty lady with the helmet hair just said so."
"Don't you have something scientific and mathematic to do?", Lance McClain spat as he continued with his whiskey. The two men were the only occupants of the common area of a luxury suite of rooms. They may have been sequestered in five star hotel, however the Voltron Force felt more like prisoners in gilded cage than welcome guests on their home planet.
Tech Sergeant Stokker , otherwise known as Pidge, just shrugged. He knew very well that was not what the lieutenant had said. He had been sitting behind Lance when he was asked about the likelihood of Galaxy Alliance Fractal Fighters taking the place of Voltron in defense of Arus. His answer, as well as the whole team, had been warped and taken out of context. By whom and for what reason was still as mystery.
The past few days had been a nightmare for the Voltron Force. The experience reminded Pidge of the famous 'Through the Looking Glass' stories where a young girl named Alice stepped over into another world-everything she knew as true and fact was turned inside out.
The same had happened to the Voltron Force. They had stepped over a threshold into a demented world where they were no longer heroes that had forced Zarkon and Planet Doom out of the business of tyranny and misery. They had become the outcasts.
"Tomorrow is Keith's turn. Is he here yet?" Pidge asked, tapping into his datapad.
"Hell if I know. Am I my commander's keeper?" Lance turned the highball glass up.
"So, you're just going to sit here and drink whiskey you can't afford and gripe about a bunch of old geezers who want to mothball Voltron?"
"Nope. I have no intention of sitting here, Pidge." Lance stood up abruptly from the couch. "I'm going to go down to that pretentious bar on the first floor, drink whiskey I can't afford and gripe about a bunch of old geezers who want to mothball Voltron to a woman with big breasts and weakness for men in uniform. If you will excuse me..." Lance McClain stumbled toward the suite door.
"Hell, I thought he'd never leave!" Hunk walked out from one of the five bedrooms adjoining the common area of the suite. "He's a real downer when he's drinking whiskey...or after he's been grilled by a bunch of old generals about Voltron." Hunk Garrett sunk down into the couch next to his best friend grabbing the remote control abandoned by the lieutenant.
"The cable sucks here. No MetalMash channel...no XtremeSpeed channel...no Better Homes and Gardens channel..."
Pidge looked up from his datapad at the mention of the last channel.
"What? They've got killer grilling shows on there, Bro. "
"Just didn't think you were the type. "
"Ha! I am a man of many talents, Pidge."
The fact that Voltron's future was in jeopardy was the proverbial gorilla in the room. No one wanted to address the fact directly. Lance, Pidge, and Hunk had all testified that day. Each had their own way of dealing with their anger. Pidge buried himself in his datapad, Hunk tried to laugh it away, and Lance had tried to drink it off.
None of those seemed to work.
The suite doors silently opened. Pidge never missed a keystroke on his datapad as he quipped, "Well, Lieutenant, it must of been slim pickings down in the bar!"
"Oh, Arus! I have no intention of picking anything at a hotel bar, Pidge!"
The sound of the warm feminine voice made both Hunk and Pidge snap to attention.
"PRINCESS!" Pidge and Hunk leapt over the couch in unison to greet their teammate. Hunk engulfed her in a bear hug. Pidge took his turn with a quick embrace.
"We didn't expect you until tomorrow!" Pidge remarked as he helped Allura with her suitcase. "Wow, for a Princess, you sure do pack light!"
"Living with you boys the past three years took the 'girl' right out of me, you know. It is truly a miracle that I haven't burned all of my dresses and finery and cut my hair." She grinned as she surveyed the suite. "Although, I must say, this is a rather nice hotel the Galaxy Alliance has arranged for us." Allura crossed the room behind the couch to the wide panoramic window. The city lights twinkled below.
The princess of Arus stood for a moment with her arms crossed, surveying the city and the Galaxy Alliance headquarters on the horizon.
"So, there they are. The assholes who want to tear us apart."
Pidge chuckled at the princess' vulgar language. Their influence was obvious on the noble heir of Arus.
"They can't tear us apart." Pidge responded. He placed his hand on Allura's shoulder.
"No. I will not give them the satisfaction. I just never believed we had enemies here at the Galaxy Alliance. " Allura sighed. " We fought Zarkon all those years, who would have believed our own allies would be the ones to defeat Voltron."
The princess bowed her head and closed her eyes.